A Close Shave
by AdmiringMuggle
Summary: Scariness warning- lets just say I had to write slowly so I'd still be able to sleep afterwards


  
  
Breakfast brought another surprise, although this one was much happier. When the usual barrage of mail-delivering owls swooped into the Great Hall, Maddie noticed a large package being held up by four large Snowy owls. To her pleasure, it fell into her breakfast, immediately followed by her owl, Christaline, with a letter from her aunt.  
  
_Dearest Maddie-   
Hi Honey! I sent this as soon as the shipment of Gofhubber came in from your mother. She sends her love. The family owl isn't really up to transatlantic flights right now, so she says she'll try to save up her letters and send packages all at once. I snuck some other goodies in here too. Have fun, but don't get into TO much trouble. I love you forever.  
  
Aunt Rachel._  
  
Maddie let out a squeal that made everyone's heads jerk up from their grits and kippers.  
  
"What?" asked George, reading over her shoulder. Maddie ripped open the package and dumped the contents on the table. Brightly colored boxes, tubes and tins spilled about the dishes of steaming food.  
  
"That's what!! My aunt must have hit Hogsmeade, or maybe she was hanging out with Otter Pitts again." Maddie began combing through the packaging peanuts to be sure there was nothing left in the box. George and Fred's jaws dropped and they stared at her in disbelief  
  
"Your aunt knows Otter Pitts?" Fred whispered the name reverently. Maddie shrugged, not looking up from the box.  
  
"Yeah, I think they dated in the eighties or something. He usually gives her trials and testers- stuff that's not out on the market yet." It was not possible for either boy's eye's to get any larger.  
  
"Why didn't you ever tell us? He's one of the best prank developers in the entire wizarding world. He invented the special KAZAM powder in Filibuster's!! He made Edible Gunpowder edible! He's a legend, a miracle, a god, a saint. He's OTTER PITTS!!" gasped George. Maddie shrugged again, barely surpresing her smirk.  
  
"Musta slipped my mind. Let's go, I want to go put this in a good spot, so that no one takes it." She skipped off, the boys following, trying to look into the box she was covering with the sleeves of her robe. Hermione laughed as she turned to her meal.  
  
"That girl will forever have something ELSE up her sleeve." The boys nodded and got more kippers.  
  
(*)  
  
Fall passed with rapid succession and not anything outstanding, much to everyone's relief. Maddie's first trip to Hogsmeade was a blast; she had a fun time in Zonko's and caused havoc in The Three Broomsticks experimenting with Pepper Imps and Gofhubber. The Halloween feast was simply wonderful- there were a group of trained illusionist wizards doing tricks, and Hagrid outdid himself with beautiful pumpkins once more. It was the first Halloween in Harry, Hermione and Ron's school career that passed without anything extraordinary happening. Weeks of pranking, partying and singing, with a bit of school thrown in here and there, whirled and twirled Maddie right up to Thanksgiving. When she woke on the crisp November day, she smiled and threw her head back.  
  
"Happy Thanksgiving!" she cried loudly, getting several pillows thrown at her head She threw them right back and hopped from bed, getting ready for the day quickly.  
  
"Happy what?" asked Hermione as she blew dry her hair with her wand.  
  
"Happy Thanksgiving. It's an American holiday- the day we escaped from England and started our independent societies!" She spun around, Maddie style, and snatched up her book bag.  
  
"Come ON, Hermione. I don't want to be late!" Maddie hurried ahead and slid down the banister, falling off at the end and landing at George's feet.  
  
"Morning, Maddie." Hermione joined the group and they hurried off to breakfast.  
  
"Okay," said Maddie, once everyone had sat down, "we're going to go around and everyone has to say one thing they are thankful for." Everyone wrinkled their brows.  
  
"Um, why?" Maddie frowned.  
  
"It's an American Muggle tradition. It's THANKSGIVING, of course." Ignoring their confused faces, Maddie motioned for Ron to start.  
  
"Um, I guess..." He looked off into space, Hermione giving him meaningful glances. "I guess I'm thankful nothing TOO weird has happened yet this year. Knock on wood." Harry frowned.  
  
"He took mine!"  
  
"Well, you have to be thankful for something else," said Maddie.  
  
"Quidditch. My saving grace." Hermione looked thoughtful.  
  
"Good friends," she said finally. Maddie beamed. Fred mockingly scratched his chin and made a show of looking off into space.  
  
"I am thankful for Gofhubber- and Otter Pitts- and joke shops in general...I could continue in this vein for some time..."   
  
"Please don't," said George, taking the spotlight. He threw his arm around and Maddie and squeezed her shoulder.  
  
"I am thankful for Miss. Madison Faith Wells!" he proclaimed. Maddie blushed prettily, but George wasn't finished. "It is simply wonderful to have someone around to constantly remind me that no matter how bad I get, I'll always be better than them." The table erupted in laughter as Maddie pretended to be hurt by his joking statement.  
  
"Just kidding, Shortyfries." He bent over and gave her a peck on the cheek. "Forgive me?"  
  
"I guess so," she relented, smiling up at him. He turned away quickly, and as she turned back to oatmeal, she couldn't help gently rubbing the spot on her face where his lips had touched.  
  
(*)  
  
Regis stared angrily at the handsome winged-back chair in the darkened office. It was facing the wall opposite of him, the only signs of the man sitting in it were the hands gripping the armrests. A deep voice broke the silence.  
  
"The girl is needed. I must have her, and have her now. My requests will not be denied."  
  
_What a drama queen! 'My requests will not be denied' Have they ever been denied before? And he HAS to magically enhance his voice. For who? Who does he think he's going to impress? _Regis thought all of this quietly, clenching and unclenching his pale fist.  
  
"Regis, did I tell you about the little device I had recently planted in my office? A mind reading device. Handy little organ, wouldn't you say?" Regis gulped and nodded vigorously, a senseless act, as his master wasn't facing him. The deep voice continued. "You have been monitoring her for months. I fell she is ready, and I know that you will be all too happy to comply with my demands. She will be brought here at my earliest convenience."  
  
"What about the boys, sir? I was tell-"  
  
"Regis! I said the girl, I want the girl. The boys do not interest me in the slightest."  
  
"B-but sir, I was telling you how I am quite sure that they would make excellent Shell Soldiers. They are strong, muscular, and determined. I think-"  
  
"Regis, I did not hire you to think. I did not hire you to blather away while I am trying to give you instructions. I did not hire you to force me to repeat myself. You will perform a Dreamcatcher spell and have two maidens waiting in an empty room to prepare her when she arrives."  
  
_Maidens! Why doesn't he just call them his whores like everyone else does?_  
  
"Because, my little man, everyone in this organization is given the most respectable name I can dredge up. Why do you think you are called my Right Hand Helper?" The sarcastic smile disappeared and his tone of voice became harsh. "Go! NOW! Don't come back until Little Miss Singing Star is in my clutches."  
  
(*)  
  
Maddie twisted in the sweaty sheets, moaning in her sleep. Her nightclothes were bunched and rumpled and her hair was sticking in great clumps to her face. But that was nothing compared to what was going on inside her head.   
  
It was dark and the air was thick. She could feel, if not see, a mixture of blood, water and tears swirling around her, drowning her. She was falling, falling in a bloody haze, terrified and pained. Then, quite suddenly, she was standing in a room. The same room she had been in months before, the room full of skins,  
  
She threw her head back and tried to scream. Tried, with everything in her. She could feel the burst of sound starting in her stomach and racing up her insides, pounding to her mouth. But it stopped itself abruptly in her throat. No matter how much energy she put behind it, she couldn't get the mass of jumbled sound waves out of her lips. She panicked and stared around desperately, sobbing noiselessly. Then, the worst thing imaginable happened.  
  
Without any warning, the skins that were strewn four deep around the room began walking. Crawling off one another, they moved towards Maddie, empty eye sockets staring blankly and rotted away mouths falling open and snapping shut helplessly. Arms stretched forward like zombies in cheesy movies, they made forward as if to attack, their weak, empty selves seeming to be drawn to her by some sort of magnetic force.  
  
Maddie went into hysterics (and you can't say you wouldn't). She tried to cry out, tried to move her feet, tried to allow the sobs that were bursting inside of her out, but no, it never happened. Every joint, muscle, bone, hair, follicle, every single component of life was frozen. In a very real sense, Maddie was petrified.  
  
When they reached her, she felt her heart and lungs explode from a sort of odd pressure. Her body felt like it was being torn a thousand ways, and she hurt in places she didn't know existed. To her extreme horror, the putrid, disgusting, gag-inducing skins began touching her. Smothering her. Forcing themselves over her. She tried to escape the rank, coppery smell of blood and the thick, rotting skin. The clammy, humid feeling as peel after peel covered her fully. But her attempts were brutally useless. Her body, as a whole, was still immobile.  
  
She could feel the skins piling up. They weren't going to kill her quickly. Of course not. They would suffocate her. She could feel them gathering in her lungs, oozing down her esophagus, whirl pooling in her stomach. They were killing her. She was going to die. She was never going to be able to learn how to ride horseback, never going to be able to fall in love or kiss a boy. Never going to be able to cure cancer or make a difference in someone's life. Never going to be able to hold another tiny baby or light another firecracker. Never going to be able to feel the thrill of laughter or the cleansing of tears. Never going to sing another lullaby or do another jumping jack. Never going to be able to smile of brush her teeth or bring up her Potions grade or say "I love you" or hit her cousin or drink her mom's special cider or open a Christmas present or paint a picture or walk a dog or eat a meal or ride a bike or go rollerblading or...the no mores filled libraries. She said a silent goodbye and prayed that her funeral would be pretty.  
  
Just as she was settling back for the ride to Heaven, there was a loud sucking sound and a sharp crack. To her great surprise, her eyelids flew open and a feeling of release flowed right to her bone marrow. She sat up, breathing heavily and sweating profusely. A nightmare. What a nightmare. She hugged her self, trying to bring a warm to kill the chill that penetrated her deeply. Her arms were like ice. What had happened to her sleeves? She looked down and felt her heart drop to her toes. Her nightclothes were gone.  
  
In their place was a dress. The most beautiful dress Maddie had ever seen. The top was tight and ribbed, exactly like an old-fashioned corset. The bottom flared out into a full skirt with several layers of lining and fluffing. Everything was done in shades of freshest cream, with intense silvery linings. An intricate pattern of silver embroidery decorated the bottom hemline. Maddie tentatively lifted her feet and saw silver slippers, tied at the ankle with a sheer ribbon. She gasped; breath coming in short spurts of wheezing. Stumbling over to a mirror on the side of the room, she saw a person standing in the mirror that could not have been herself. This person had a mass of black hair that tumbled down her back in romantic spiral curls. This person had a shimmery white eye shadow surrounding her eyes, with black mascara curling the lashes perfectly. This person at the palest crimson blush on her cheeks, and blood red lips. This person was wearing the fairytale dress that Maddie had been wearing. This person looked just like Snow White.  
  
"Quite a difference, wouldn't you say?" Maddie let out a soft scream as a man stepped partially out of the shadows behind her. He was dressed in Muggle gear; a pair of black leather pants and a black turtleneck sweater that clung tightly to his sculpted upper body. He spoke in a deep, resonating voice.  
  
"Katerina, you are beautiful," he whispered softly.  
  
"Who are you? And what exactly are you doing in my bedroom?" Maddie backed into the mirror with a soft thud, not daring to look away from the mysterious shadow man.  
  
"Katerina, sweet girl," he chuckled condescendingly. "You aren't in your bedroom, are you?" Maddie felt her heart fall out of her toes and splatter into a million pieces of sinew around her slippers. The disturbing man was so right it was painful. The room was a far cry from the lavish living quarters she had at Hogwarts. A small cot was shoved against one corner of the room; a rickety table with a flickering lamp was shoved against another. The only other furniture in the God-forsaken alcove was the mirror, full-length and in all it's reflective glory. Maddie opened her mouth, but words were gone. Far away. Some place in the back of her head, right next to any thought of getting out of this mess alive.  
  
"M-my name i-i-is Maddie," she managed.  
  
"What dear? You have to speak up." The creepy man placed a hand to his ear and smiled at Maddie intimately. She grimaced and nearly yelled.  
  
"My name is Maddie!" He smiled at her in the same condescending way as before.   
  
"No, that is where you are wrong. You are at my house, and when you are at my house, your name is Katerina." Maddie stared at him with confused horror. This man was clearly quite out of his mind. Totally off his rocker. Nutso. Mental.  
  
"Your house?" she whispered.  
  
"All in good time my dear, all in good time. We mustn't rush the truth. No, no, all in good time." He moved closer to her and extended a hand to touch a curl that was falling over her shoulder. She jerked away irritably.  
  
"Did you do this to me?" she demanded, waving a hand at her face and dress. He grinned and rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet, looking her over.  
  
"No, unfortunately, I can't take credit for this transformation. My maidens are well trained in making themselves irresistible."  
  
"Maidens?"  
  
"Tut, tut, Katerina. You are rushing the truth again. Now, I believe it is time to explain to you your assignment."  
  
"My assig-" she began to repeat, but his wand was waving over her face, and in the next second she was plunged into darkness. She let out a yelp.  
  
"Oh hush! You'll be fine in a few seconds." The man grabbed her hand and led her down a passageway. She felt the whoosh of a wand across her face and she was standing on a stage. Yes, she was quite sure of it. A large, wooden structure, with thousands of bright lights shining in her face. Her eyes blinked into focus and what her saw assaulted her senses.   
  
The seats in front of her were filled with row after row of men, all looking the same. They had dark black hair, bulging muscles, dark eyes, and were all dressed in typical Muggle army fatigues. They sat in exactly the same way, both feet planted firmly on the floor, arms on the armrests of their chairs, heads relaxed but eyes sharply focused. On a raised platform behind the men were the man from the shadows and another man who looked identical to the men in the rows, except for the fact that he was sitting in a much more comfortable slouch.  
  
"I guess it's time for little Katerina to get a little explanation." The man's loopy singsong of before was long gone; in its place was a sharp, don't-mess-with-me tone. "You are one of the first civilians ever to lay eyes on my perfect race. My beautiful Shell Soldiers." He reviewed them with a paternal pride, saluting them as he moved along the aisles. They robotically saluted back, eyes staring but unseeing. "They have all been rigorously trained for combat, trained to kill when I say kill. They are all in excellent physical condition. None of them have any flaws at all. They are indestructible."   
  
He stopped and looked Maddie in the eye, causing her to gasp. For the first time she could see his eyes- his absolutely, positively horrifying eyes. The left eye was a perfect shade of blue. A blue that was of a most cerulean shade, a blue that you rarely saw on any person over the age of five. It was beautiful, focused and without flaw. But the right eye was a different story altogether. A black that was blacker then any night, blacker than any sin, blacker than any pigment ever to grace the earth. There were no signs that it was an eye at all, and not just a piece of wet flesh that someone had sewn over an empty eye socket. No pupil, no white. He grinned at her obvious fear and winked quickly with the good eye. She nearly cried.  
  
"These soldiers are special for more than one reason. You may be asking yourself how I managed to put together such a terrific phenomenon. Well, first, I went out in the world, searching for young souls, free minds who had not yet been corrupted with silly ideas of good and evil. Once I was able to show them how the line between good and evil was not a line at all, and just a swill mass of ideas, well they were more than happy to comply. They had all their redeeming qualities sucked out of their weak bodies, and they were pumped into the ultimate fighter's body. The finished product was what is sitting before you. They have not failed me yet. They work hard. I expect the best, but I give the best in return."  
  
All this time he had been happily surveying the muscular men in around him. Now he raised his head and actually rubbed his hands in some sort of anticipation. "I wouldn't work without motivation. Would you? At any rate, my men don't. They were promised a reward for they're training nightmares. You are their rewards." Maddie was filled with a thick, cold dread. Reward? The dress, the makeup, the hair. What...why...how. She could only think of one thing a bunch of testosterone filled men could want with a little fifteen year old girl. She immediately began crying.   
  
This seemed to annoy the man, as he ran up to the stage and grabbed Maddie roughly by the shoulder.  
  
"Katerina! Why are you crying!" he demanded angrily.  
  
"Wh- wha-," She tried to choke out the words through her sobs. "What are y- you g- g- going to do to m- me?"  
  
"Nothing that'll hurt too much," he answered in the loopy tone again, "We just want to have a little fun!" Maddie sobbed as hard as she could. It didn't matter anymore. She was going to do worse than die. She was going to be humiliated- hurt...The sobs kept coming and she shook uncontrollably. She had to get out of there, she couldn't let them do this to her. The man slid an arm around her waist and watched her tears hungrily, but seemed to bore of them eventually.  
  
"Oh, come on, shut up. We're not going to rape you. All you have to do is sing for us," he drawled. Maddie rubbed her eyes and stared at him quizzically.  
  
"Sing for you? Why? How do you know I can even sing a note?"  
  
"Norax has his ways," he said mysteriously. Maddie's head jerked up, the man nodded happily.  
  
"Oh yeah, did I forget to mention? I'm Norax. Nice to meet you." He extended a hand, and Maddie was once again struck with the idea that this guy was a few fries short of a Happy Meal. He put a hand to her shoulder and began running his finger along her exposed collarbone, his eyes glued to hers.  
  
"You can sing anything you want. Just sing along, sing away, sing to make us all happy. It's a show for Katerina, by Katerina. Are you ready?" Maddie blinked back tears and fought the urge to rake her fingernails along this greasy guy's arm, which was still caressing her collarbone.  
  
"No," she whispered. He eyes flashed with anger, and she winced.  
  
"What did you say?" he asked in a dangerously quiet voice. A deathly whisper.  
  
"I- I...I SAID NO!" Maddie didn't know what overcame her. She just knew that this guy was a creep and she wanted to go home and she was sick of these games. These horrifying games. She gasped for air as she realized that something was pinching her skin, cutting into her. Looking down, she saw the finger that had been walking playfully around her chest was now transformed into a razorblade, and was cutting a precise line over her bone, getting deeper and more agonizing by the second.  
  
"No? NO! NO ONE SAYS NO TO NORAX!" He raised the lethal finger in the air and brought it crashing to her neck at a terrifying speed. It came wildly whizzing towards her, and then, with an amazing skill, the razorblade stopped, not a millimeter from the throbbing vein in her neck. Maddie was wheezing, clutching at the cut on her chest that was spurting blood at an alarming rate.  
  
"Don't," she pleaded breathily. He snapped his fingers and the razorblade was gone. He smoothed his hair and stood back.  
  
"No, no. Wouldn't want to damage those precious vocal chords. You will sing now, Katerina." Maddie numbly nodded, trying to focus hard on what to do. She would only last so much longer, for it seemed like all her energy was draining with the blood. Sing...sing..Melodicia theories. Her only hope. She tried to decide on which spell, with a nervous glance to the raised platform in the audience. This guy wouldn't wait forever. She decided and cleared her throat nervously.  
  
"I'm, uh, going to sing a mix of different songs I know, with some scales thrown in here and there."  
  
"LOVELY choice," cried Norax gleefully, clapping his hands like a small child. Maddie nodded and began. She started with a song from Phantom of the Opera.  
  
"Think of me, think of me fondly, when we say goodbye." A few more lines of steeling her nerves and she threw in one of the scales.  
  
"Do ray mi ray do!" She every ounce of energy behind the warning signal, praying that Fred and George would remember, praying that they would know what to do. She continued with the theme to Evita.  
  
It's up to you now, boys. PLEASE don't let me down.  
  
(*)  
  
George rolled around in his sheets, sleeping fitfully. He kept having the same dream, over and over, all night. Maddie was standing in a room, holding out her arms and sobbing. Her front was soaked in blood and she repeating his name.  
  
"George! It's up to you. Please, George, it's up to you! GEORGE!" He sat up, breathing heavily. The last shriek was always the scariest. He rubbed his eyes sleepily, wishing that he could get just one decent night's sleep. He was just about to lay his head back when he heard it. A small sound that seemed to be coming from inside his head. A melody. Where had he heard this melody before? He tried to concentrate and was still debating whether to give up and go back to sleep when it hit him like a ton of bricks.  
  
"FRED! Fred, get up, get up, get up." George leapt from bed and shook his brother roughly, trying to wake him.  
  
"Huh? It's like four in the morning..."   
  
"The warning signal...and the dreams. Maddie's in trouble, she's bleeding, she needs help!!"  
  
"WHAT? What are you going on about now? Did you have a bad dream or something?" Fred was looking a bit annoyed at being aroused in the early morning hours.  
  
"Yes! Wait, no! Well, yes, but, no, it wasn't a dream...Maddie's in trouble. OH forget it, I'll have to leave you here." George turned to leave, but Fred crawled out of bed and followed him out.  
  
"Well I'm awake now. Besides, you never go out at night without me. You wouldn't know how." George ignored him and broke into a jog. He really wasn't sure what he was doing, where he should go. How does one go about saving their best friend's life? He jumped the landing and pounded up to the staircase to the girls' dorms. One glance through the door showed an empty bed, rumpled sheets and torn bed curtains. And his heart fell. Fred pulled a 180 and did a terrific leap, landing like a cat on the common room floor, surpassing the entire staircase.   
  
"The spiral!" he called over his shoulder, and George didn't even think as he tore after him. There seemed to be a million miles between the portrait and the clump of trees near the Quidditch field. Once they got there, the tinny music was as wonderful as the thundering of a hundred-string orchestra.  
  
"Norax, Norax, Norax!" they shouted in unison without slowing. The stairs passed in a blur, but something was different at the antique door. Instead of the spiral emblem, there was a small Plexiglas window. They looked through, breathing heavily.  
  
There was Maddie, standing on a stage, gasping as she sang a chorus over and over. It sounded like a foreign language, and she seemed to not have enough strength to sing it anymore. The tow most alarming things about the picture were the blood streaming out of Maddie's hand that was clasped over her upper chest, and the thousands of sleeping men slumped about in front of her. Fred and George searched frantically for a doorknob, but in vain. Fred stepped back and put his head in his hands.  
  
"What are we going to do? She's bleeding pretty bad- did you see the front of her dress? It was all stained..." George nodded, pale-faced   
  
"I have an idea! Do you have any Dungbombs?"  
  
"Always."  
  
"Okay, give it here." Fred handed over the apple-sized wonder, and George dug out some Gofhubber from his pajama pockets. "I think it's time for a Malicious Maddie."   
  
Fred grinned, thinking of the concoction that their little friend had cooked up in a fit of boredom. They had never had any need for such extreme extremes, but this was perfect. He watched in anticipation as George squeezed the entire economy-sized tube of gook onto the fuse of the bomb and turned to Fred.  
  
"On the count of three I'll light it and you'll have to hit the deck, okay?" They nodded together. "One, two...THREE!" George hurled the fizzing bomb and the two brothers threw themselves down on the earthen floor. The force of the Gofhubber blew the door to oblivion, and the smokes of the Dungbomb caused a huge curtain- perfect for diversions. George jumped up and sprinted to the stage, where Maddie was still singing under her breath.  
  
"Come on!" Maddie lowered herself from the stage, but didn't stop singing. George understood the song to be some sort of sleeping spell, and grabbed her hand, propelling her along to the staircases. After 100 steps, the boys heard stirring behind them. Maddie had lost the energy to sing and walk at the same tie, and the spell had broken. George scooped her up and broke into a run, Fred close behind. The stairs seemed steep, long and countless; much more intimidating then stairs had ever been before. They finally came to the night, and anxiously watched the hole, praying for it to slip closed as before. The pounded of feet grew closer and closer, and a black clad figure began to appear. Maddie began shrieking as loud as she could. Fred grabbed George's arm and pulled them away. They had only run for seconds when the precious sound of vacuums sucking rang through the air.  
  
"Shh, it's okay, you're safe now, it's okay. George winced as he stared at the blood that had run onto his robes and stained his hands. Maddie wasn't talking much now; just making small noises of pain whenever his arm would brush the slit on her neck. Fred raced ahead and wrenched open the door of Hagrid's hut, startling the giant quite a bit.  
  
"FRED! Whatcha doing trying to scare me like that?!" Fred clutched at a stitch in his side and pointed wordlessly to the open door and George stumbling forward with Maddie, just barely hanging onto consciousness.  
  
"Bring her over here- hurry, hurry." Hagrid laid her down on the bed, George and Fred hovering nervously behind him.  
  
"Let's just take a look at this," he said gently, carefully lifting her hand from where it was pressed over the cut.  
  
"It's hurts!" she gasped. He nodded and took a bed sheet-sized handkerchief from his pocket, pressing it evenly over her collarbone. She started to lie down, her eyes rolling around in her head, but Hagrid would have none of it.  
  
"Nope! Come on love, stay with me. Up to the castle, let's go." Hagrid jogged up towards the school, feeling an acute sense of deja vu. The boys sprinted ahead; going to warn the nurse as the sun came up. She had the same reaction as Hagrid.  
  
"Good Lord! This girl gets into almost as much trouble as the Potter boy! Lay her down, this will only take a second..." She took out a package named Sutures without the Sutures and rubbed one of the moist sheets from inside over the bloody laceration. Nothing happened.  
  
"What?" she whispered, thoroughly amazed. Dumbledore jogged in, dressed in a nightcap and bathrobe.  
  
"Madame, I'm terribly sorry, but I'll take over this one." Madame Pomfrey stared darkly at the headmaster as he muttered some words and waved his wand over Maddie's body. She visibly relaxed and lay against the pillows, still covered in blood but not in pain.  
  
"Children, there is MUCH explaining to do. I am quite aware that this is no ordinary cut, and you had no ordinary adventures tonight. I would like a full explanation." Maddie sighed and looked at the twins.  
  
"I'll tell my part, you tell yours, okay?" The boys nodded and the next half-hour was spent explaining everything, from the first night in the spiral to the role of the boys rescuing Maddie. Dumbledore sat back with his head in his hands, looking much more traumatized than anyone had ever seen him.  
  
"Uh, Maddie, Fred and George, go back to bed. Maddie dear, just, uh, get a shower or something. I have to...go." The kids left with suspicious looks on their faces, but Dumbledore did nothing to hide the outright fear on his face. He stumbled dejectedly up to his office, where Minerva sat waiting.  
  
"I knew you'd come," he said with no amusement. She spun around and drew her knees up to her chest.  
  
"Albus, what happened? Why...well, is she..." She trailed off, no need for words. Both people were pondering the same questions.  
  
"If she is, then there is much to be done. But I don't know how to be sure. I do know one thing, though. I need to tell them. Her and Harry. They deserve to know, have a right to know. I can't deal with feeling like a right old fraud anymore." Minvera nodded numbly.   
  
"When will you tell them, Albus?"  
  
"By tomorrow night, Maddie Wells and Harry Potter will know the truth."  
  



End file.
